King of Terrors
by Poe'sNewMuse
Summary: Matt finds that he's returned to Wammy's without any knowledge of how he got there. After a short while, he realizes he's returned as a ghost. If there's no heaven and no hell, he can't help but wonder where Mello is in all of this.
1. Chapter 1

Sunlight began to filter through the windows and into the room, causing a messy haired redhead to open his eyes with a groan. Idiots were always being inconsiderate and leaving the curtains open while he slept. Matt looked around the room, nearly empty except for the small bed that he found himself lying on. Empty and just, vaguely familiar.

He sat up, his expression one of mixed confusion and worry. Was this someplace new for he and Mello to hide out in?

And then it hit him. The blond's name had no more than simply entered his mind when Matt let out a strangled cry. Mello. Their plan. While he appeared to be alright, where was his friend in all of this? Mello had to be okay.

Matt scrambled to his feet, pausing momentarily to look for shoes and finding none, and ran out the door. It didn't occur to him until he was in the hallway outside the door that he knew exactly where he was. Though it would have been impossible to get here, from Japan. Trying to think back to what he last remembered, he froze. No, that part must have been a dream. A very lucid dream.

He lifted his shirt, staring down at his chest with wide eyes. There were marks and scars that he'd never seen before, but not the kind that suggested he'd been at gunpoint the night before. Though.. they were in the same places that he'd remembered being hit, at least before he passed out. That must have been it, he'd only passed out, and now he'd been comatose in his old home with Mello watching over him. Nobody else would bother to care for him that way. He hadn't found any evidence that this was the case, but Matt was a bit more of an optimist than a lot of the people he'd grown up around.

He didn't want to venture to far from the empty room, but once he noticed the room number, he knew he'd have no trouble finding it again. Same old door as always.

Venturing down the hall, Matt paused to listen for children. Just because he'd left, it didn't mean that life at Wammy's had ceased to carry on just as always. Just as he was becoming worried that it seemed empty, an unfamiliar young teen turned round the corner, heading Matt's direction.

"Hey! Do you know where Mello is? Short, blonde, leathery?" His questions went unanswered, though the boy continued walking toward him. "You can tell me, I used to go to school here too. Maybe you could take me to Roger. Is he still here?"

Still, every word out of Matt's mouth was treated like he weren't even present. The boy opened another door and walked into his own room, ignoring the redhead. Matt rolled his eyes, but a bit more worry was starting to set in.

He headed to Roger's office, a path he knew by heart even after a few years away. Once he was there, he opened the door, peeping in. The old man looked up, and Matt breathed a sigh of relief.

"There we go! Someone acknowledges my existence." He sat down in a chair across the desk, pulling his goggles down round his neck and staring at the other with a stern expression. "I-" Before he could go on, Roger had stood up and walked to the door, poking his head around and looking down the hall.

"I'd rather nobody play with me at the moment, I have- funeral business to sort," Roger called this down the hall, and Matt stared at him with yet more confusion.

Someone had died? A student here? Bummer.

Matt opened his mouth again to speak to the old caretaker, but he stopped when Roger sat down and continued to write, without looking at the boy once. The redhead got up and stood behind the other man, looking over his shoulder. He knew that was something that bothered him. The smirk playing on his lips died when he saw the names on the paper, though.

Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas?


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the slow update! This chapter is a little shorter than you can expect them to be. As always, I don't have any affiliations with Death Note.

* * *

Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas.

Matt wasn't sure who this Mihael was, but he certainly could recognize his own name. The funeral business that Roger had mentioned.. The way that nobody would acknowledge him.. The scars. He stepped back, shaking his head. None of it made sense, but it couldn't be the truth. If he were dead.. No, he wouldn't even let the thought cross his mind. Someone had clearly made a mistake.

"Roger. I'm right here. I don't know why you'd put my name on there, unless there happens to be another Mr. Mail Jeevas roaming around Wammy's." He chuckled nervously, running his hands through the unkempt hair.

Still, he was ignored. Shivers ran up Matt's spine. "Please just turn and look at me.."

Nothing.

He balled his hands into fists and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Maybe that would give the old man something to look at. He hardly saw anyone in the hallway, and those he ran into were different than the last time he had been in the building. There was one student he recognized, though her face had changed slightly. It had been a few years. He could hardly wrap his head around that, let alone try to figure out what was going on.

"Am I dead?" He thought the words aloud, leaning on a wall. It was the same wall that he'd been sitting against the first time he and Mello had decided to become the unbreakable duo that they were infamous for.

_"That's right," the petite blond said with a grin. "We're going to be best friends. You might not see it now, but just wait! Everyone will know our names."  
__The redheaded boy looked up from his game, confusion clear on his face. "We'll see about that. I'm Matt, by the way. Maybe you should learn my name before everyone else." He stuck out his tongue._

It was starting to make sense. But.. he didn't want it to make sense. He wanted to keep wandering around the halls, run into Mello,and punch him for leaving him alone and confused. Matt wanted an explanation for what was happening with everyone around him, and how long he had been unconscious. Scars don't occur overnight.

He pushed himself away from the wall, determined to find something or someone who could help him understand.


End file.
